Chapter Eight
The coolness of early morning had already begun to wear off as Anakin, Padmé and Shmi made their way up into the hills behind the large house. Anakin could see that his mother was struggling a little, and kept back with her to ensure that she didn't overdo it.
Anakin had tried to read Padmé's thoughts as they walked along, but she was doing an effective job of hiding how she felt. No doubt his antics at the ballet the previous week had put her on the defensive. Her ability to shield her thoughts both surprised and impressed him.
Indeed, there was a great deal about Padmé Naberrie that surprised and impressed him. Each day seemed to uncover another facet of her personality, and he found himself becoming more and more fascinated by her with each passing day. She was not the woman that Palpatine had described; in fact she seemed to be the opposite of the treacherous, scheming woman his master had wanted dead. Is that why the thought of killing her revolts me now? he reflected. He knew that Palpatine would be angry with him when he learned the truth; how could he explain to his master that he had not followed his orders? And what if Palpatine reissued the order to kill Padmé? What then?
"Ani?"
Anakin looked at his mother. "Sorry, what did you say?"
"What is going on with you?" Shmi asked. "You seem light years away."
Anakin smiled. "Just...thinking."
Shmi knew better, and decided that she needed answers. Something was going on- that much was certain. If there were no romantic involvement between Padmé and her son, then what was going on between them? Perhaps now would be a good time to ask since she had the two of them together.
"I don't think I've ever seen anything so beautiful," Shmi said as the three of them stood looking at the magnificent waterfall. "It's….miraculous."
Padmé smiled, pleased that Shmi was enjoying this little outing.
"I think I was scared stiff the first time I saw a waterfall," Anakin said with a smile.
"Were you?" Shmi asked.
"Yeah, well I was only a boy at the time," he replied. He looked back at the gorgeous vista. "But now I agree with you Mom. It is miraculous."
Padmé said nothing as she observed mother and son as they slowly rediscovered one another. It gratified her that she'd had a part in this momentous event in their lives. Already she was seeing the changes in Anakin, just as she predicted she would. Slowly but surely his mother was drawing out the gentle sweet boy he had been all those years ago. Padmé could not help but wonder how Anakin would reconcile that boy with the ruthless man he had grown into. Who would win out? Sith or slave? Time would tell.
"This is lovely," Shmi said as the three of them sat upon a large blanket in the middle of a meadow. Some of the household servants had arranged a picnic lunch for them and everything was laid out and ready for them to enjoy. Shmi was quite unaccustomed to such luxuries.
"I hope you're both hungry," Padmé said as they opened the baskets of food. "Looks like there's enough in here for a small army."
"That won't be a problem," Anakin said, digging in.
Padmé and Shmi laughed at his enthusiasm.
"I'm glad we're all together," Shmi said as they finished their lunch. "I want to talk to you both about what is going on."
Anakin and Padmé looked at one another.
"What do you mean, Shmi?" Padmé asked.
"Don't patronize me, Padmé," Shmi replied. She looked over at her son who was reclining on one arm, his long legs stretched out in front of him. "Tell me the truth, Anakin."
Anakin looked up at his mother, and then back at Padmé. He knew that this moment had been unavoidable; his mother was intuitive enough to sense the tension between him and Padmé, and more than tenacious enough to learn the reason for it.
"I guess I should begin by telling you that I am not a Jedi Knight," Anakin began.
Shmi frowned. "Why not?" she asked simply.
"Qui-Gon Jinn, the Jedi who you met, was killed a few days after we left Tatooine," Anakin told her.
"I know that," Shmi replied. "Padmé told me when she came to Tatooine to look for you."
Anakin glanced at Padmé again. So she had been telling me the truth, he thought.
"The Jedi refused to train me," Anakin explained. "They cast me aside, Mom. Left me to fend for myself."
"That's not entirely true, Anakin," Padmé interjected. "When I went to the Jedi Council they didn't know where you had gone. They were not willing to train you, that's true; but they did feel a sense of responsibility for your wellbeing after the death of Qui-Gon. They wanted to ensure that you had a place to live and that you were cared for, but they were not able to find you to do so."
Anakin frowned. "That's a lie!" he retorted hotly, shocking his mother with his acerbic tone. "They washed their hands of me, not caring what became of me!"
"Ani, what has happened to you?" Shmi asked, troubled by his anger.
Anakin looked at his mother, the look in her eyes causing the anger to evaporate, leaving only shame behind.
"I'm not the person who you expected me to be, Mom," he told her. "I'm not a Jedi. I've been trained in the ways of the Dark Side by the Chancellor. He has been good to me, Mom. He gave me a place to stay, an education, everything I could want or ask for."
Shmi shook her head. "Did he?" she asked sadly. "Is he the one responsible for turning you into such an angry young man?"
Padmé looked at him, wondering how he was going to respond to this.
"I have a good life, Mom," he said, deflecting the question. "He has given me so much, anything I could want, anything…"
"Except love, Anakin," Shmi interjected. "In fact, I think he did everything he could to drive it out of you. Why else haven't I seen you in more than ten years?"
Anakin did not know what to say. His mother's words were provocative, forcing him to examine his life and the true motives behind Palpatine's generosity. After all, he had sent Anakin to murder Padmé; what did that say about him? What did it say about Anakin that he was willing to do it?
Padmé could see that Shmi's words had affected Anakin deeply. She hesitated for a moment before saying what she felt needed saying; and then she took a deep breath and spoke up.
"Palpatine wanted Anakin to kill me, Shmi," she said, looking Anakin in the eye. "That was why he came to Naboo. He came to murder me."
The look in Anakin's eyes was indiscernible. Padmé waited for the flash of anger, the fury, the denial; but it did not come. Instead he looked away from her, unable to hold her gaze, unwilling to face his mother's.
"Anakin," Shim said softly, too horrified to say more. She fought to master the despair that Padmé's revelation had elicited. "Why, Ani?" she asked at last. "Why? What possible reason could there be to justify such a thing?"
Anakin looked up at his mother at last. At that moment he looked very much like the little boy he'd been so long ago. "He…he told me that Padmé was a traitor to the Republic," he said. "He said that she was plotting with the Separatists."
"And you believed him?" Shmi asked.
Anakin nodded. "I had no reason not to," he replied.
"And now?" Shmi persisted. "What do you believe now?"
Anakin looked at Padmé, who was waiting for his response.
"If I believed him, Padmé would not be alive right now," he said.
The statement was a simple one, but it chilled both Shmi and Padmé.
"Ani, please tell me you don't intend on returning to the employ of this….this monster," Shmi said with emotion. She looked at Padmé. "How could he think ill of this generous, kind young woman?" she asked. "What kind of man is he that he would ask you to do such a thing?"
"A Sith Lord," Anakin replied. "The sworn enemy of the Jedi."
"Is that what you are now, Anakin?" Padmé asked him. "A Sith? An enemy of the Jedi?"
Anakin did not reply immediately as he picked at the grass beside the blanket. The truth of the matter was he didn't know anymore. He was utterly confused, now more than ever. Had the Jedi tried to help him? According to Palpatine they had abandoned him; why would he lie? Perhaps for the same reason he had lied about Padmé, for Anakin was now certain that he had. The more he got to know Padmé again, the more convinced he was that everything Palpatine had said about her was a lie. But why? Why lie about her? What did he hope to gain by her death? What threat did she pose to him? He was the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic! Why did one Senator intimidate him so greatly that he wanted her dead?
Except for the occasional mention of her name, Anakin could not remember his master ever speaking of Senator Amidala in all the time he had known him. And then, seemingly out of no where, she had become an enormous threat to him. And then it hit him: the ballet. Palpatine had been annoyed at his young protégé when Anakin had shown interest in Senator Amidala. Was that it? Was he the reason? Did his interest in Padmé threaten Palpatine somehow? But how? Surely the old man could not expect Anakin to be blind to the fact that Padmé Naberrie had become a stunning beauty. He had never disapproved of Anakin's dalliances in the past, and there had been more than one woman who had warmed his bed. So why did Anakin's interest and attraction to Padmé bother him so?
Anakin sat up. "I don't know," he said at last, his own ruminations only serving to add to his confusion. "Nothing makes sense to me anymore." He looked at Padmé. "Why does he feel threatened by you? I don't know. None of this makes sense."
He stood up.
"Where are you going?" Shmi asked.
"I just need to be alone right now," Anakin told his mother. "I…I have a lot of thinking to do."
"I understand," Shmi said. "Ani, don't ever forget how much I love you. I always have and I always will."
Anakin felt an unfamiliar rush of emotion at her words. "I love you too, Mom," he replied, and then turned and walked away.
Shmi and Padmé watched him go, and then Shmi turned to Padmé. "I know why you are a threat to the Chancellor," she said. "And it has nothing to do with politics."
Padmé frowned, not understanding. "Why?" she asked.
"Because he knows how Anakin feels about you," Shmi replied. "How he has always felt about you."
Shmi's statement surprised Padmé. "I don't think that's it, Shmi," she replied. "Anakin may have cared about me when we were children, but Palpatine has done an excellent job of turning Anakin against me."
"Anakin is conflicted," Shmi replied. "He is discovering that everything he thought to be true is really a pack of lies. His world has been turned upside down. You can see yourself how confused he is right now."
Padme nodded. "Yes, there is no doubt about that."
"Tell me Padmé," Shmi said next, "what was it that stopped him from killing you? Do you know?"
Padmé hesitated before replying. She wasn't entirely sure herself what had stayed his hand. "I challenged Palpatine's allegations," she said at last. "I forced Anakin to think for himself instead of just blindly following orders. He didn't like that much, but it worked."
"Thank the Maker for that," Shmi replied. "If he was able to see that killing you is wrong, then there is still hope for him, Padmé; hope that the good person inside of him can be saved. And as long as there is hope, I won't give up on him."
Padmé smiled. "You are the key, you know that don't you?" she told Shmi. "Your love for him and his for you have already changed him, I've seen it."
"Don't underestimate your part in this, Padmé," Shmi replied. "You may not see it, but I do."
"And what is it that you see?" Padmé asked.
"I see two people trying very hard to convince themselves that they don't care about one another," Shmi replied.
Padmé could not help but be reminded of the dream she'd had about Anakin the previous night, and the fact that it had sprung from her own mind, not his. She began packing up the picnic, pushing the thoughts from her mind. "I wish I could agree with you, but I'm afraid I can't. Not this time."
Shmi merely smiled to herself as she helped Padmé pack up the rest of the lunch, not at all convinced that she wasn't dead on about Anakin and Padmé.